


Sometimes

by skargasm



Series: Taming the Muse [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Knotting, LJ Prompt, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 16:03:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1556141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it was soft and romantic—sometimes it wasn’t</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheLadyMerlin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyMerlin/gifts).



It wasn’t always soft and romantic. The fact that it was _ever_ like that came as something of a surprise to Stiles - for some reason, he always thought that if he and Derek got together it would be all hot and heavy passion, Derek throwing him around like a rag doll whilst claiming him like a complete animal. The first time was nothing like that - maybe because it happened in a lull when there was no life-threatening emergency. Instead it was long, languorous make out sessions on his bed when the Sheriff was at work even though he was now well over the age of consent and there wasn’t any need to sneak around. It was affectionate cuddles watching his laptop; snuggling (which, again, he would never have expected); before one night Derek banned the pack from the rebuilt Hale house and planned a huge seduction scene complete with roses and candles (fake), soft clean sheets and hours of foreplay. Not that Stiles was complaining - hell, he might have sorta felt like the girl in that scenario but Derek didn't treat him like a girl and definitely knew his way around a dick in ways that Stiles could only admire once he regained the ability to breathe and think. Of course, learning about Kate—about how she had treated Derek all those years ago—well, it explained why soft and romantic was something the werewolf was determined to give him. At least some of the time.

But sometimes – like the whole debacle with the freaking gnome - don't ask - and the alpha that decided that Stiles was too delicious to leave behind after negotiations with the pack had gone so successfully - times like that, it was different.

At times like that, Derek's face would be dark and forbidding and the pack would scurry away as soon as the meeting was over and Stiles would know what to expect.

It was often being hefted over Derek's shoulder and carried up to their room - he might not live there yet but it was most definitely their room as he had clothes and games and junk strewn all over it. Derek would throw him on the bed and he often lost an item of clothing to the determined removal of said items, Derek's face hard with concentration. All of that intense concentration on him - on the breaths he dragged into his lungs; his thundering heartbeat whilst he writhed against the hands restraining him to the bed whilst Derek rubbed all over him, covering him in the rich alpha scent that clung to Derek even when he returned to being a beta by saving Cora. At times like that, with Derek relearning every millimetre of his skin, kissing and biting, stroking and squeezing, it was like he had been carved out from the inside - like Derek had taken a diagylph to him and emptied him out until there was a yawning gap that could only be filled by his werewolf lover. By his tongue, his fingers, his cock.

Times when Stiles would vaguely be happy that the pack weren't around because the pillow could only muffle so much of his sobbing moans and cries; when Derek seemed determined to wring every possible ounce of pleasure out of Stiles with his knowledge of what wrecked him so that he was nothing but a mound of malleable flesh, waiting to be reformed around Derek's dick.

Times when he could do nothing but cling to the headboard, white knuckled grip the only thing stopping him crashing into the wall as Derek filled that gap inside with his presence - corkscrewing hips slamming into him, hands that were just this side of being claws clenched on his hips to pull him closer, hot mouth and teeth nipping and sucking at Stiles’ throat and neck, marking him as taken, as belonging to the one remaining Hale of the territory.

It was times like that he could pretty much guarantee that Derek's knot would appear, would spear him deep and hold him in place for strong thrusts that hit him perfectly to drag out more cries and groans. It didn't always happen - hell, the first time it had they'd both been stunned and a little freaked. But in times of stress, times when Derek needed to know Stiles belonged to him and him alone, it was there, a hot-skinned fat swelling that always brought that edge of pain as Derek worked it into his tight hole. Hands caressing his belly as Derek pumped him full of come, babbling nonsense words of possession and love and need that made Stiles' heart flutter and clench even as he was tossed over the edge and came with hot spurts against the bed.

Times when they were stuck together, Derek plastered to his back, hips thrusting minutely as the animal instinct to mate kept him coming long after Stiles was a limp mess unable to come any more but content to be held tight. Hours where it felt like his body had really reformed into the perfect shape to hold Derek within him, that he was curved to the shape of Derek's dick and no one else would ever feel right.

Times when he would wake from an exhausted sleep to find himself in a tub of perfectly warm water, head resting protectively on a folded towel whilst Derek washed his body. Cleaning away the sweat and come, stroking at the finger shaped bruises that formed, caring for him as a mate who if he had been female would no doubt be pregnant by now.

Times when he was glad that Scott would cover for him with his dad, even though the man wasn't a fool and had a pretty good idea what was going on but said nothing as long as Derek kept Stiles safe. When it was a good thing he worked as a consultant for other packs, his knowledge of the supernatural a shockingly steady source of income for the McCall-Hale pack, because it meant that when Derek refused to let him leave the bed, when they spent the day wrapped around each other so that their scents were so intermingled it was impossible to tell them apart.

He put up with Isaac's smirks and Jackson's rolled eyes; smiled at Scott's typical acceptance that this was just a Stiles and Derek thing that happened sometimes; talked to Lydia about ways to make their pack stronger and therefore safer.

So no, it wasn't always soft and romantic. But if he was honest, those hot and heavy passionate times were some of his favourite and judging by the soft looks and relaxed slump of Derek's shoulders for days afterwards, he wasn't alone in that.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> This little bit of smut wrote itself whilst on the school run—good job no one could read what was on the screen!! It was written for my sister from another mother because she encouraged me to turn the tap and let the writing flow. To My Lady, as always xx
> 
> * * *


End file.
